


Roommates

by delta_capricorni



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delta_capricorni/pseuds/delta_capricorni
Summary: Claude, a grad student at Garreg Mach University, gets a new roommate. She turns out to be not only a new professor in his department and a rising star in his field, but also really, truly, absolutely, stunningly hot.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	Roommates

**Author's Note:**

> it's claude's birthday! hooray for claudeleth! hope y'all enjoy

Everything was mostly normal for the first few months.

Claude was a rising sixth-year graduate student in search of a new roommate. Having rented the same two-bedroom apartment since starting school, he was too attached to the space to move out when his roommate graduated. At the same time he refused to invite any of his current classmates to replace said roommate. His otherwise go-to options were simply insufferable, whether it was Hilda’s complete lack of respect for personal privacy, Raphael’s “accidental” consumption of literally everything in the fridge, Lorenz’s usual refusal to clean up after himself, or Marianne’s actual inability to clean up after herself. As such, he spent a lot of time interviewing prospective new roommates. Plus, he figured it would be easier to start a relationship—a purely platonic one, mind you—from scratch with a stranger.

The name Byleth Eisner appeared in his email inbox right when he was about to call it quits and ask Ignatz to consider moving out from his artist’s studio. Claude would later admit that he should’ve done more internet sleuthing, but over video chat she seemed perfectly suitable as a roommate. He would never admit that her face, even over the choppy video stream, was one of the prettiest he’d ever seen.

When she showed up a couple months later, apparently only a single large suitcase to her name, Claude realized there was one crucial thing the video chat failed to reveal: Byleth had a _fantastic_ body. The laptop camera had cut off right at the shoulders, but when he first opened the door to let her in, his stupid brain couldn’t figure out whether to stare at that pretty face now in the flesh, or her very well-endowed chest. _Move over, Hilda,_ the imp in his mind chortled.

But Claude was a gentleman! With a handshake and an exchanging of in-person greetings, Byleth became his totally platonic roommate. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care about his furtive peeking or terrible attempts at conversation, all of which Claude believed further made her a great roommate. And over the following month, he found himself showing her around the city, pointing out the best cafés for working alone and where to buy the freshest groceries. She didn’t say much in those early days, but gradually his gaze drifted increasingly toward not the curves of her body but rather that rare smile he found himself searching her face for, more frequently than he realized.

  


The next hurdle he encountered the morning of the new semester. He found Byleth waking up at the exact same time as he did. And then taking the exact same morning route as he did. And then stepping into the exact same department meeting room as he did.

“Oh, are you acquainted with Professor Eisner already, Claude?” the department chair asked him neutrally as they walked in together.

Claude responded eloquently, “Seteth! I, yeah, uh, teach—"

“Professor Seteth Cichol, is it?” Byleth inquired innocently. “It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance in person. I encountered Claude on my walk over, and he very helpfully guided me here.”

“Please, call me Seteth. We’re all on a first-name basis here.” Seteth smiled, as if he enjoyed the sound of his full name roll off her full lips. “Oh, Hilda, you’re late as usual. Sit down, please. Now that we’re all here, I’m honored to introduce our new hire, Byleth Eisner, who will be teaching this year’s Fódlan Lecture Series on Grand Strategy. For her benefit, before we formally start our meeting, why don’t we all go around the room and say our names and what courses we’re teaching, TA-ing for, or taking this semester…”

When the meeting was over, Hilda elbowed her way over to Claude. “She’s kinda _hot_ , isn’t she?” she whispered way too loudly. Beside her, Marianne blushed and Lorenz coughed.

“That’s completely inappropriate,” Lysithea chastised, with Leonie nodding in agreement. “She’s our _professor_. Although, I suppose except for me, she’s probably actually quite close in age to us students.”

Ignatz chimed in, “But, Claude, you did seem to be on friendly terms with her. Is it actually true that—”

“Who’s ready for lunch?” Raphael inserted himself into the group. He and Leonie then led the battle charge toward the dining hall, the others tagging along as always. Claude trailed at the end, counting his blessings. Before he exited, though, he glanced around the room for Byleth, who was ensnared by small talk with other professors. She returned his look with a very quick wink, so stealthily that he almost thought he imagined it. Heart racing, he ducked out and caught up with his friends.

So it was implicitly decreed that they would keep secret this arrangement, that he was actually rooming with one of the most promising young scholars in his field. If it ever bothered Byleth, she never said.

  


Everything was mostly normal for the first few months.

Being a tenure-track professor certainly wasn’t easy, especially not at Garreg Mach University (GMU), and there were many nights where Byleth would return even later than Claude, throwing stacks of papers to grade onto the table and herself onto the couch. As a sixth-year Claude had only to focus on his dissertation, but he could certainly sympathize with the struggle of dealing with nettling undergrads and demanding faculty. There was a growing number of evenings where he found himself cooking dinner for two, and there were just as many mornings where he woke up to the smell of fresh pour-over coffee waiting for him in the kitchen. Outside of the apartment though, their disparate work schedules helped avert any suspicion of them rooming together, as Byleth spent extra hours at the department and Claude fewer, and they both carried on as usual in their professionally discrete social spheres.

Then things started getting a little weird when the winter holidays rolled around.

Claude had left the end-of-semester department party fairly early, citing his dissertation work but in truth prioritizing his needs as a closeted introvert. Byleth, the poor soul, was stuck socializing with professors and graduate students from other departments, all eager to finally have an excuse to chat up the famed academic and wheedle out any secret bits of wisdom over drinks.

He was watching something inane on TV when she stumbled into the apartment, face redder than the tacky but real rose Lorenz had pinned to his lapel for the occasion. Claude leapt up to grab her before she actually fell, gently shutting the door behind them and leading her to the couch to lie down.

“Geez, Teach, you’re worse than a college freshman at their first party,” Claude joked. “Lemme get you some water.”

As he turned to get to the kitchen, however, he felt a hand grab his. He turned around, heart beginning to race, as he turned back and saw Byleth stare up at him. He was also reminded for the first time in a while of how pretty she was. Even in her very modest dress, her large breasts and curved hips stood out.

He couldn’t believe what he heard next.

“Claude,” she whispered. “Will you fuck me?”

His heart was pounding in his ears. _Gods, yes, you’re so beautiful,_ he wanted to cry out. He’d come to see her as “just” a roommate, “just” a fellow department member. But couldn’t she also be…?

He knelt next to her. “Teach,” he said, stroking her face. Her cheek was exuding heat like a tiny sun.

“We’re friends, right?” she said airily. “You can call me Byleth. First-name basis, remember?”

Claude smiled, then pulled his hand back. “Byleth. Yes. It’s because we’re friends that… that I can’t do that to you. Not with you like this.”

Her lips curled into a frown. “But… I’m serious, Claude.”

“I know. I am, too.” Claude stood up straight and left purposefully to fetch a mug of water. His own face was burning, he was pretty sure.

When he returned, she was sitting upright, gazing despondently at her folded hands in her lap. She accepted the water, taking a few sips.

After a moment, she said with a stronger voice, “I just don’t know if I can ask you when I’m… sober.”

Claude resisted the urge to kiss her on the spot, instead resting an arm around her shoulders. She leaned in, and he turned his face into her hair, if only to divert his line of sight from her ample cleavage. “I understand, By—Teach. But it really wouldn’t sit well with me.”

She nodded into his chest, placing a hand on his forearm. He leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes, allowing himself at the very least to enjoy this moment, and preparing to forget it all the next day.

  


Winter break passed by sluggishly. Byleth left for home soon after to attend to her ailing father, and Claude was left alone in the apartment. Claude would later admit that to forget that single night he poured himself daily into his dissertation, and sometimes it worked. Sometimes he wondered if he might get hired by his department and become a faculty member alongside her. Claude would never admit that it was this latter thought that was much more effective in driving him to work harder. But with its unspoken university-wide policy of cross-pollination, GMU rarely hired its own students for tenure-track positions, not unless they were absolutely exceptional.

When Claude showed up for the first department meeting of the spring semester, he was surprised to find Byleth there, sitting quietly by herself in the corner. She had a travel-sized suitcase with her, so she must have come straight from the station. She was playing with a small, purple-silver ring strung around her neck.

“Hey, Teach,” he said gently, taking the seat next to her. “Is… is your father feeling better?”

She looked up at him, and he felt his heart stop in his chest for a moment. Those blue, blue eyes seemed to be saying something, but instead of reading their signals he found himself drowning in their depths.

Then she smiled lightly, and he felt himself rising back up to the surface for air. “Dad’s alright, thanks for asking... He said he wouldn’t go until I got tenure. The last time we had a health scare, he said he wouldn’t go until I got my PhD. I’m afraid I’m running out of life goals to attain!”

Claude laughed, more because he was simply glad to see she was okay, and he realized it was the first time he’d laughed since… when? The party last month? They carried on conversing as others filed into the room, until the meeting to announce the new term began.

Thus the spring semester got off relatively smoothly. Although they saw less of each other, given Claude’s self-induced pressure to finish his writing and Byleth’s first year evaluation coming up, they still shared coffee and meals once in a while, like most (platonic!) roommates do. Claude found himself guilty of using his dissertation as an excuse to skip subsequent drinking events with the department. He only attended Hilda’s late-birthday party held on Valentine’s Day, for it was a students-only affair, and Byleth took that night to have some time to herself. Things had gone back to normal.

  


Or so he thought. Lysithea, that prodigy of a scholar, successfully submitted and defended her dissertation a year early, and by late April she received a couple job offers (although none from GMU, curiously enough). As the first student in a decade to finish a PhD _and_ get a job placement in under five years, of course the department held a huge celebration, and of course all had to attend.

“At this rate, none of us are gonna get any offers, simply because we look stupid compared to Lysithea,” Leonie sighed, taking a sip from a bottle of beer.

Marianne mumbled, “Amen to that.” Everyone laughed at her uncharacteristic comment. Word was that Lorenz was giving her lessons in self-confidence; her self-deprecation had indeed become charming.

“Don’t worry, you’re all wonderful scholars.” Byleth appeared, holding a glass of water. Unlike toward the other professors, nobody tensed up in her presence, instead welcoming her almost as a peer.

“What, you’re not drinking? You went really hard at the holiday party!” Raphael gaped, himself double-fisting two drinks. Claude looked at his feet.

“When I visited Dad in the hospital over the winter, the doctors made me look at some of his liver scans. I guess I’m still a bit scarred by the experience.” She smiled so wistfully, Claude wanted to take her in his arms. But instead there was an awkward pause in the conversation.

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry,” Ignatz was the first to respond, always the most sensitive of the bunch. “Hm… like we sometimes do in artists’ circles, maybe we could all pour one out for Mr. Eisner?”

“Now that’s a great idea!” Hilda patted Ignatz on the shoulder, in a gesture that would’ve been condescending coming from anyone except her. “But only after we’ve all gotten to finish at least two of our favorite drinks!”

Byleth laughed, and the group collectively relaxed at that soothing sound. Claude, however, excused himself, quickly congratulated Lysithea on his way out, and began walking back home.

He was not prepared to be stopped by, of all people, Lorenz. “Claude von Riegan, what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

“What do you think _you’re_ doing?” he shot back, suddenly irascible.

“I saw the way you were looking at the professor,” Lorenz retorted. “Or rather, not looking.”

“Huh?” Now Claude was confused.

Lorenz dramatically sighed, tapping a finger to his cheek. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. We all know you _like_ Professor Eisner—I mean, who doesn’t? But recently you’ve been… how to put it… avoiding her?”

“Have not.” Claude was miffed. Even so, he recognized Lorenz’s observation skills to be quite astute.

“Have too!” Lorenz replied. Then they began laughing at their childishness. They might have been bitter rivals in another universe, but six years together in the same grueling PhD program made them allies.

Claude folded his hands behind his head. “So what would you have me do?”

Lorenz groaned. “Ugh, Claude, always needing my guidance… Well, in short, man up! Actually, don’t tell Leonie I said that, I don’t want to be lectured again for being sexist. But you have to talk to her, Claude.”

“That _is_ sexist though,” Claude grinned.

“Don’t deflect!” Lorenz punched him playfully. “And you know Hilda, your other confidante, would give you the same albeit less sexist advice.”

“Fine.” Claude turned and continued his walk home. Then, he called back over his shoulder, “Oh, and thanks, I guess. You’re not so bad, Lorenz.”

“Naturally!” Lorenz harrumphed, returning to the party. Now, how was Claude going to handle this?...

  


Claude was sitting on the couch when the door opened behind him. There was no stumbling, only a gentle click of the doorknob, the shedding of shoes, and feet quietly padding toward him.

“Claude, I’ve been thinking—” “Teach, I know I’ve been—”

Claude and Byleth looked at each other, both blushing. Byleth eased herself onto the other end of the couch, maintaining a solid distance between them. Claude held out a hand to indicate _you first_ , but in fact Byleth took it in her own.

After a moment of silence, “Claude, are you worried because I’m a professor?”

“No!” he almost shouted, surprising them both. Then more quietly, he repeated, “No. No, it’s not that. I mean, we’ve gotten along fine as roommates this past year. …I just didn’t feel comfortable that night. I didn’t want to… you know, take advantage of you while you were clearly piss drunk.”

Byleth smiled at his choice of wording. “Thank you, Claude. You’re a gentleman. I really mean it.”

Silence settled between them—not an awkward one, but a gentle one, punctuated only by the sound of Byleth scooting over to Claude’s side of the couch. He hesitantly put his arm around her again, but this time it felt completely right, the way she snuggled into his warmth.

“Hey,” she said after a while.

“Hey,” he replied.

“Is it… okay, now?”

“Yes,” he said too quickly. Byleth looked up at him with a knowing smile, eyebrows raised. _Don’t look away,_ he told himself. Steeling himself, he cupped her cheek and leaned forward. He paused for a few seconds, searching her eyes for any signs of unwillingness. Finding none, he kissed her on the lips.

In response she turned her body toward him, her breasts pushing up against his own chest, and kissed him, also chastely on the lips. They caught each other’s gaze—hungrily, they both realized—and then began kissing each other more deeply. Claude pushed his tongue between her lips and met her own. When was the last time he’d gotten to taste anything as sweet as this? They both pressed into each other, Claude sliding down on the couch until Byleth lay on top of him.

When they broke their kiss, both panting slightly, Claude let his lips drift down to her jawline, then to her neck, where he began licking and sucking. A slight moan in his ear sent shivers down his spine.

“No marks,” she whispered, and he nodded, switching to more fervent licking along her nape and collarbone. He felt her shudder above him, and then her soft hand guiding his underneath her shirt. Her skin was so warm to the touch, he wasn’t sure if Byleth was shivering from his cold fingertips or the sensation of his hand now on her breast, filling his palm. Fondling it now gave him so much joy, joy that traveled right down to his cock, constrained by his jeans. She let out a faint gasp as Claude rolled her erect nipple between his fingers. They shifted their positions on the couch to allow him to grab her other breast with his other hand, and she began rocking slightly against his thigh as he groped and squeezed her breasts and nipples against each other.

Byleth then pulled Claude’s shirt off, and she leaned down to caress his darker skin. When she squeezed one of his nipples, his tiny _ah!_ made her giggle and him turn a deep red. She began licking, and he could only grab at her more tightly for support as the pleasure shot through his chest and downward. Her tongue trailed down across his stomach and then—now both their faces grew hot with anticipation as she began undoing his belt, and he shimmied his pants and boxers off, depositing them on the floor.

The worn leather of the couch was warm against his back and butt as Byleth gazed for a moment at his fully erect cock. She licked her lips and it twitched in response, Claude looking away in embarrassment. Then she kissed it, licked it, and then began to take it into her mouth. One of her hands worked his shaft, while the other played with his balls.

“Ah…” he groaned between bobs of her head. “Teach… Byleth… hold on…”

He managed to raise his arms, thus lifting her own shirt off in the process. Her overflowing breasts, those glorious parts of her, finally spilled out into the open for his eyes to feast upon. The purple-silver ring was nestled in between. Their upper bodies fully bare, he couldn’t help but notice that while he was all lank and wit and full of sharp edges and corners, she was soft, rounded, strong, willful, inviting.

Catching him staring, Byleth winked, removed her necklace, and then lay back on the couch while pulling him forward. Finding himself straddling her chest, he placed his penis between her breasts and began thrusting. He reached back to slip a hand down her waist and between her legs, finding her sopping wet. He attempted to rub her clitoris, but the sensation of her warm and enveloping flesh around his cock made it all too difficult to multitask. He found himself getting closer and closer—

Byleth took his hand and removed it from her genital area. Claude froze—had he gone too far?

“I appreciate your attempts to pleasure me, but this half-assed twiddling simply won’t do.” She shoved him into a sitting position on the couch. Heart racing, he watched as she shed her pants and underwear, pulling down a silver thread of vaginal secretion. She stood naked and quiet, as if lost in the moment.

“Claude,” she whispered. “Will you fuck me?”

Claude barely stopped himself from lunging for her, instead channeling his frenzied desire into guiding her onto the couch beneath him. He buried his face between her breasts—how sweet she smelled—and let his hand trail down her belly and between her thighs again. He dipped his middle finger into her vagina, the liquid overflowing out onto the couch, and took it out to wet her clitoris. Then, rubbing his thumb against her clit, he inserted two fingers, crossing them and prodding them against her walls.

Her quiet moans began to evolve into whines begging for more. He slipped his hand out and repositioned himself above her, raising her thick thighs into the air. She reached a hand down to grasp his shaft. With a slight tug, Byleth guided Claude into her.

“Fuck, you’re really tight, Teach…”

“Claude, this is the one occasion that I’d like to remind you that we’re on a first-name basis.”

“This is… Byleth, you are amazing…”

They both gasped with pleasure as Claude, unable to help himself, pushed all the way in. Claude rested his torso upon hers, waiting for any sign of discomfort. Byleth nipped at his neck, and he took that as her signal for him to move. He began thrusting slowly at first, taking care to run his chest along her breasts and nipples with each forward thrust, listening to Byleth let out a small moan each time.

She grabbed at his back, causing him to stop. But then in his ear she whispered, “More, Claude… I want you. I want you deep inside me. Let me feel your balls against me.”

He then began thrusting harder, his pelvis rubbing against hers as his pace increased. Her moans coalesced into one long cry of pleasure, and he could feel her nails etching lines into his back. He reached his own hand around her back, pulling her as close as possible to him, her soft breasts squishing against his lean chest. His breaths became ragged as she grabbed his butt to push him deeper, deeper. How frustrating it was that they couldn’t simply dissolve into each other, unite as one body; how pleasurable it was, those barriers of flesh rubbing, sliding, pressing, thrusting, kneading past each other.

“Claude, ah, fuck,” she managed between moans and burying her face into his neck. He responded in turn, moaning and thrusting harder, pressing his whole body against her, trying to melt them together.

He felt heat rising inside of him, rising like flames, higher, burning brighter… Suddenly he caught himself. Byleth gave him a look, questioning and desperate. “Byleth, sorry, I’m… I’m kinda close. Are you…?”

Byleth placed a hand on his sweaty chest and gave a gentle push, wordlessly indicating she wanted him to move back and lie down. He pulled out with an audible gasp from both of them, his member throbbing with lust. He laid down on the couch, cock arched into the air.

Byleth straddled Claude’s abdomen, one leg on the floor, and began kissing him again. As their tongues lapped at each other she inserted the head of his cock inside her, and they both moaned into each other’s mouths. Claude resisted the urge to grab her hip and force her down all the way too soon, but her slow descent was so tantalizing, almost unbearably so. He was sure she could feel his dick twitching inside her, but all the same she knew he could feel her vagina clenching around him.

Once she had lowered herself all the way, she began rocking back and forth over his cock, rubbing her clit against his pelvis. The head of his cock pushing against the walls inside her was driving him crazy, but not as much as her clit being stimulated against his flesh. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and her knees wedged into his sides as her whole body seemed to grasp for more traction, more force, more pleasure, more of _him_. Claude placed his hand on the back of her head and brought her down into a long kiss, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

Byleth pulled back to gasp out, “Claude, oh, I’m gonna, I’m, ahh—” and her words gave way to one long keening moan. She was thrusting frantically against him, rubbing into him, crying out unrestrained, her back arching with exertion, her breasts bouncing with her efforts. He grabbed her hip and helped drive her pelvis into his. Her eyes were squeezed shut and mouth rounded into a perfect _o_.

As her insides tightened almost excruciatingly around him, Claude felt himself coming closer, but then her movements slowed and her body relaxed as she rode out her orgasm, voice quieting. Byleth leaned down to rest against him, panting heavily, heart pounding. He closed his eyes and listened to her gasping for breath in his ear. Her vagina was twitching, teasing his still-hard cock.

When she was ready, she raised herself again and pressed her lips and tongue to his neck. Then, she resumed riding him, this time without rubbing her clit against him. Claude let out a gasp of pleasure and surprise, but then seized her hip and brought her to a pause.

“I’m not gonna let you do all the work,” he smiled, and lifted her off his cock. They both inhaled sharply at the sudden lack, but he quickly then switched spots with Byleth, guiding her onto her hands and knees and positioning himself behind her. He pressed his lips to her beautiful ass, round and shining with sweat now exposed to the light, while sliding another hand around her rounded hip and thigh.

“Hey Teach, did you know you have a mole on your left buttcheek?”

“Wait, wha—ahh!” Her words gave way as he pushed himself in, and they began moaning in sync again.

Then he reached with one hand down to her clitoris, and she cried out. “Ah, Claude, I’m still, ah, sensitive, ah…” Even more reason to go harder, he thought, as his thrusts quickened. He leaned onto her back and grabbed one of her breasts to steady himself, and she dropped onto her elbows and moaned into the arm of the couch.

“Fuck, Byleth, where do I—” he groaned, pushing as deep into her as he could.

“Inside, it’s okay,” she gasped out. “Ah, Claude, I think I might, ah, cum again…”

He dropped a hand onto the couch to steady himself, which Byleth then took in hers. Their hands and bodies pressed together firmly, Byleth began to tighten around Claude again in what he now recognized as the precursor to her orgasm, and now leading to his own. Byleth’s voice grew to a yell again, and Claude himself was unable to control his keening as he spilled out into her. Shivering and shuddering, they held their position for a moment before stretching out onto the couch.

“You okay?” Byleth whispered.

Claude responded by pressing a long kiss to her neck. They lay there together for a little while, before he reluctantly pulled out, quickly pressing tissues to Byleth’s vaginal area to prevent any more leaking. After cleaning themselves a bit, they both gravitated back onto the couch, laying face-to-face on their sides. Claude refastened the necklace around Byleth’s neck, playfully inserting his pinky finger through the ring and resting his knuckles on her breast. Their hands trailed along each other’s bodies, tracing shapes across their skin. They crossed their legs together; they leaned in for short, sweet kisses.

“…I’m sorry,” Claude said after a while.

“About what?”

He thought for a moment how to phrase it. “That… I didn’t let this happen earlier, I guess?”

Byleth smiled into his chest, pulling him closer. “You had a good reason. Thank you, my friend.”

Claude’s cock, though limp now, seemed to twitch at the word “friend,” and they both laughed.

“Hey, Byleth. Um. Do you think we could… you know… do this again sometime?”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “Maybe, if you ever have the guts to initiate anything.”

“Teach!” Claude responded indignantly, and she squeezed his butt in return. “Seriously though, I don’t want this to be a one-night stand sort of thing. That would actually be super awkward since we’ve got a few months left on our leases.”

“Well…” she trailed off, and Claude waited patiently, pressing his lips to her cheek. “Maybe if you finish your PhD with flying colors, maybe they’ll hire you here, and maybe we can be professors together.”

Claude sighed. “That’s a whole lotta ‘maybes,’ Byleth.”

They looked into each other’s eyes. Their bodies were so warm, pressed against each other, and the rest of the world seemed to fall away. Shared dinners, shared coffees, shared spaces, shared time…

“But if you’ll have me, I’d like to stay roommates at least through the end of our lease,” Claude winked.

Byleth brought Claude into a hug. “Sure thing, Claude. And if you start getting an actual salary beginning next academic term, maybe we can consider someplace more permanent. They say you can’t buy love, but at least you can buy a home.”

“Oh gods, Byleth. What’ll they say about us, back at the department?”

“What do you mean, Claude?” Byleth smiled sweetly at him. “We’ll just say we’re roommates.”

“We’re pretty damn good roommates then,” Claude laughed.

  


Well into their years of tenure, Byleth and Claude would never admit to what kinds of shenanigans—platonic or otherwise—they got into when they were outside the department. But even as the locations and seasons and projects and company changed all around them, they would always admit, or rather declare unwaveringly and sometimes even unprompted, that they were very good roommates indeed.

  



End file.
